We have played a game
of reversing roles where
I have crashed into you
and hurt you.
(although I don't believe beyond repair)
I was so busy, absorbed, occupied
chasing whilst staring over my shoulder
at the you regarding me
waiting for your attack
that I didn't realise I
was putting knives in your back.
Here we are
you've taken a stand
and I miss your hand
in mine.
And whilst they all clamour for my attention
I can feel the tension
it's in my heart
because this is the crossroad
where possibility
becomes reality
or history.
"I don't care if it's five minutes or a whole night
I just want to see you"
With love, Beau xx
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